


This is the end

by Aurowander



Category: Original Work
Genre: Being Lost, Death of a star, Death of the universe as we know it, Dying Star, First Post, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Outer Space, Random & Short, Stars, space, yeehaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 00:15:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18861850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurowander/pseuds/Aurowander
Summary: Written in English Class while I spaced out. Will probably finish this at some point.Currently is more of a poem than anything.





	This is the end

**Author's Note:**

> Written in English Class while I spaced out. Will probably finish this at some point. 
> 
> Currently is more of a poem than anything.

I am drifting in an empty void.

My scanner is barely picking up the weak flares of Specter III. I am observing the end of our universe. 

I sit watching the death of a star. Specter VII and Trials XIII burnt out years ago. I fly on the last Reo Pod to survive, and the next to die. I left the last Outpost seven years ago. Nobody was left there anyways. I had no reason to stay. 

I think I'm the only one left. I don't know. I never will know, but I think so. 

I picked a Satchel off of the wall, pulled the casing off of it, and popped it into my mouth. The bitter taste of the nutrient-rich paste grounds me. I sit back, in the so called "Drivers seat." In reality, self-driving Pods have been the norm for hundreds of thousands of years, but it's a nice thought. I urged the Pod forwards with the push of a button, ever closer to the dying star. My hands flew over the holographic keyboard, sending one last SOS call to anybody else who may be out there. I sat and pondered for a moment, the possibility of any other Outposts still being active briefly crossed my mind before being discarded. I sighed. Of course there aren't any others. We were the last Outpost, nearest to the last few stars. 

One month, seven days until Specter III dies once and for all. One month and eight days until my suffering is ended once and for all as Specter III collapses onto itself and sends radioactive, fiery remains into my Pod. As if to remind me, my pod's lights shudder briefly. On again and off again, the solar panels of the ship angling desperately to try to catch any small bits of light and energy. 

One month and eight days until I die. 

I lean back, and try to get some sleep.


End file.
